


housekeeping

by painting



Series: Umbrella Academy [12]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Road Trips, Sibling Bonding, Sickfic, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 03:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19862494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painting/pseuds/painting
Summary: In the 1980s, Reginald Hargreeves owned and shut down a North American summer camp.





	housekeeping

**Author's Note:**

> you thought i could help myself? think again

"You should really be wearing a mask," Allison says noncommittally to Klaus as she ties up her hair to keep it tidy and free of the airborne grime and August heat. 

"And cover up such a pretty face?" is his distinguished response. Klaus roots through the cloth sack on the floor with one hand and furiously scrubs at his nose with the other, then puffs out a couple of dry, irritated coughs when a stream of dust speckles across the air in front of him. "Don't even joke, Allison. Uh, do we have any Claritin?"

"No, sorry." Allison shakes out a canister of rolled up manila envelopes and discards the whole thing into their throwaway pile. "No one expected there to be any animals in these cabins. The dust isn't really disrupting anyone else."

Ben, who has been zero help and had instead preferred to spend the afternoon staring at the family's useless loot, adds, "Maybe it's all the grass and trees. Sometimes you get a little sneezy in the summer."

"Not like this," Klaus says.

"Well," Ben argues, "you haven't been to the forest before."

"Ben thinks it's the pollen," Klaus relays to Allison. It's an interesting theory. He's well aware of the association people have of nerdy indoor kids with seasonal allergies, and Klaus has never thought of himself that way, but he can't recall ever being this far out in nature for more than an hour or two. They've always lived in the city, and their childhood business trips (right? disgusting) were always to places whose environments were sterile in an unremarkably similar way.

"Well, whatever it is," Allison says, "you know it can't be good for you."

Klaus huffs. "Hasn't stopped me before."

Allison smiles at that, which is totally what he loves about her. Diego and Luther would have become too serious -- with concern and suspicion, though not necessarily respectively -- and Five would have humorlessly rolled his eyes. Allison plays along with him. Vanya, too. Sisters are so much easier.

Klaus swipes the dampness off of his lashes just in time to catch a glimpse of a couple kids throwing a textured red ball across the derelict and untamed field on the other side of the cabin's window. He looks away quickly, ducking his head back down into Dad's forgotten stash of rustic non-treasures and taking in another lungful of musty, polluted air.

"You okay?" Allison asks.

"Ugh. I'm having, like…" 

"An allergy attack," Ben says.

" _No,_ " Klaus corrects pointedly. "I just…"

"Did you see something?" Allison asks. "Er, someone?"

"Yeah," Klaus says.

"Who?"

"Dad was such a bastard," Klaus replies. It's not a deflection. "When did he shut this place down? The eighties?"

"Might have been earlier," Allison says. She's so sweet, she never pushes Klaus when he talks about his powers. "Why?"

"And he owned it way before then, right? Not that he ever thought about it, but I doubt he cared if the show runners abided by health and safety codes. Dick."

Allison frowns. "Since when do you care about code violations?" she asks.

"You see any kids playing outside?"

"No."

Klaus mumbles, "I do."

"Oh." Allison's face falls. Whoops. "Shit, Klaus, that's really sad."

"Oh my God," Klaus backtracks. He touches Allison's arm to catch her off guard and calm her down. "No, uh, I don't mean they _died_ here-- just, like, he should've been more careful. Probably careful enough not to have anything to do with a place like this, considering how much he despises _youths._ Remember? I think the ones out there are just resting on the campground because it's a nice memory for them, despite Reginald's evil reign. Good for them."

He's still not making eye contact, though. They might never leave him alone if he did, which he'd hate on a good day and can tolerate even less now that he could swear that something in the air is legitimately attacking him.

"This one's empty," Allison announces after a few moments, holding up the bag she'd been searching through. "How's yours?"

"You take it." Klaus holds it out as far away from his face as possible, and Allison grabs it before he lets go. "I need a break."

"Maybe you should go and get some fresh air," Allison suggests. "See if Diego has any tissues in his car or something."

"Yeah, okay," Klaus agrees. "At least I can fawn over his awesome summertime costume some more. It's absolutely ludicrous." 

Allison smiles.

"Okay. See you."

The splintering wooden door clicks open and Klaus steps outside. The air here is just as hot and wet as it had been in the cabin, but he's surprised to find it remarkably less stuffy. His skin prickles like he's being bitten by a thousand flying insects, which doesn't happen to him when he's in a dusty room but does sometimes hit him when he's been around a cat for long enough, and the only reason he isn't swatting at his bare arms is because he'd found out on the walk up here that it doesn't help.

It would have been nice if everyone hadn't chosen to explore this section of Dad's assets during a heat wave. The campground isn't huge, but the humidity means that the short walk from the residential dwellings to the administrative cabin is all it takes to make someone sweat.

When Klaus pinches the front of his shirt to fan himself, Ben says, "Don't. Your clothes are covered in dust."

_God._

"Fine, I'll just take it off," Klaus says. He should have done that earlier.

"Then whatever you're allergic to will be all over your skin," Ben says annoyingly. "You'll get itchy."

"I'm already itchy," Klaus argues, but he listens anyway. Maybe the showers around here will still run.

He sneezes seven times -- not all at once -- before he reaches the camp's communal area, with all of its fields and auditoriums and little brown offices. It's maybe a two minute walk, if that, and it doesn't feel like he's going to stop until something changes.

Klaus heads for whichever building is on his right. He can't remember who was supposed to be searching where, but it's big and that means more airflow which might be easier on his face. Maybe Vanya's hanging out there, he hopes. She's usually pretty helpful.

He runs into Five instead.

"Hey," Klaus says. His tone is neutral and his voice is starting to get gravelly. Klaus clears his throat.

Five doesn't bother with a greeting, squinting and tilting his head up to look at him. "Are your allergies bothering you?" he asks, casually analytical.

Some bird sings for a second in the trees behind them. The surrounding leaves rustle in the even stream of the breeze.

"Uh. I don't get allergies," Klaus says with genuity, not denial. It's basically true.

Five's eyebrows spring up. He stares. Then, he gestures to Klaus and his entire face, the skin around his nose and eyes stinging pink. He can feel the sticky smudge of his eye makeup.

"Not until now," Klaus amends. Sheesh. "You said it like it's a regular thing."

"You get congested every time you enter an old building," Five says.

Klaus frowns and says, "Doesn't everyone?"

"No," Five says.

"See?" Ben says. "I've been telling you that for like, six years."

"Shut up," Klaus tells him.

"Why? I'm right." Five says. Ben scoffs victoriously.

Klaus doesn't even bother clarifying. What's the point? "Whatever," he says instead. "I only have allergies out here. Apparently."

"Well, we're probably going to be here for a while," Five says. Unlike Luther, he's never been afraid to bear bad news. "Turns out there's a lot of garbage to go through. Dad didn't even give the counselors time to clean out their desks, and Diego and Luther don't trust anyone else on the grounds."

"That's them," Klaus says. "Why are…"

He sneezes for the nine billionth time, just once, and it leaves his sinuses feeling like they've got pipe cleaners going through them-- not satisfying at all.

Five squints at him again and says, "Bless you."

"Thanks." Klaus doesn't bother waiting for a second one. He can't tell how many times he's going to sneeze in one go because he feels like he's constantly on the cusp of it, so he just keeps talking. "Why are _you_ still here, then?"

Five shrugs.

"It's not like he doesn't have anything better to do," Ben says to Klaus. "Isn't he working on trying to get an honorary Ph.D.? He yells at the phone all day."

"Yeah," Klaus says.

"What?" Five asks.

"Ben thinks you stuck around because you want to hang out with us," Klaus says.

Five sighs like he's so abysmally beyond being fed up, then he turns around and heads for one of the smaller cabins ahead of them. He doesn't deny anything, which means their guess had been right and he's probably just embarrassed.

How sweet. Klaus follows him.

He takes just a couple of steps before he seems to realize he can teleport, then he blinks away, presumably into the building labeled DIRECTOR. He started out walking either to show Klaus the way or because he was caught off guard enough to misplace his instincts, but Klaus likes the idea of each option. The puzzle-hunt for his brother's soft spot has always been a fun one.

Five is standing over Luther with his arms crossed by the time Klaus arrives and steps inside. This must mean Vanya is off with Diego somewhere. Klaus wants to find the both of them next; they're a lot more fun.

"Klaus," Luther says once he looks up. It's clear in his voice that he hadn't been expecting him. "Why aren't you with Allison? Did you find anything important?"

"I left," Klaus says without apology. He thought they'd maybe find something cool or interesting at an abandoned summer camp, but so far it's been nothing but an itchy disappointment. "Couldn't breathe in there. Though this place isn't really much better."

"What's wrong?" Luther asks immediately. "Are you okay?"

"It's just allergies," Five answers for him. It sounds like he thinks it's supposed to be comforting.

Taken aback, Luther says to Klaus, "You don't have allergies."

"I'm allergic to cats," Klaus says. A brief flicker of shame shows itself on Luther's face to represent his forgetfulness. "And this _entire campground,_ we've all discovered. It's awful."

"You shouldn't be inside the cabins," Luther decides. "There's a ton of dust."

Klaus waves a hand to dismiss him. "It's the same everywhere."

"Maybe Vanya could make it rain enough to wash the pollen out of the air," Ben suggests. Klaus chuckles.

"Think she'd do it?" he asks.

"Who?" Luther says.

"Nothing," Klaus says. "You think Dad ever visited this place?"

"Not that I know of," Luther answers. He straightens out a yellowing, wrinkled stack of papers. "He didn't seem to like the outdoors much."

"No kidding," Five agrees. "He had Mom give us all those survivalist lectures but never let us put it into practice. He didn't want to come all the way out here."

"Can't imagine why," Klaus remarks as dryly as he can. His consonants sound pinched and ridiculous.

"It might've been fun to do some training out here," Luther muses. "Going fishing, spending the night in a tent. Getting to see the stars."

"For you guys, maybe," Klaus says. "It's too quiet out here. Not enough going on."

"Not enough to distract you, you mean," Ben says sympathetically. He might have liked coming out here. It is sort of peaceful, once you get past the bugs and the heat.

"Have you seen any ghosts?" Luther asks, in the same vein.

"What, you mean today?"

"Up here, yeah."

"Lots of kids," Klaus says. "I think this is like, their heaven."

"So of course the old man shut it down," Five comments.

Luther's mouth goes tight, but he doesn't disagree.

"Have you talked to any of them?" he asks Klaus.

"I'd rather not disturb them. Seems like they're having a blast." 

He could maybe manifest them, Klaus supposes, but he doubts it would go over well. He can hardly focus as it is.

"You think you could interview anyone who isn't?"

"So nice of you to ask," instead of demand, Klaus adds to himself. "I guess so. If I have to."

"Thanks."

"I'm gonna go find Diego," Klaus announces. He knows Luther's pattern, and he's about to start giving instructions on what kinds of diagnostic questions he wants Klaus to ask of the undead (and Five doesn't care enough to intercept). No, thank you. "Let me know if you find an air conditioner or something."

As if. He waves goodbye after he's turned around with his back to his brothers.

"You forgot to close the door," Ben reminds him as he steps onto the porch. Klaus groans and keeps on walking.

The first building he pokes through is empty, its only remains being a stack of folding chairs and tables pushed up against the wall. He doesn't bother scanning around before trying the cabin next door, which is occupied by what looks like a deceased janitor pacing along its back wall. He's got the short-sleeved jumpsuit on, but Klaus can't see his face and doesn't really care to.

Building number three is for sure a cafeteria. It has the little lunch counter that Klaus had always seen in the public schools on TV shows (and in the ones he broke into with friends as a teenager), and there's a beautiful industrial kitchen sink sparkling behind it.

Not literally sparkling, because it's filthy like everything else is on the forsaken campus, but it definitely sparkles in aura because Klaus is dying to wash his face.

The water turns on, even though Ben had predicted it wouldn't. Klaus lets it run for a second before all of the rust on the spout is rinsed off and then he splashes the lukewarm well water over his eyes and cheeks. There's no towel to dry off with, but wiping his face with the side of his arm does a good enough job.

"Did it help?" Ben asks.

Klaus sniffles and says, "Not enough. It's fine."

Ben hisses through his teeth. 

"You look like shit, dude," he says.

"It's fine," Klaus repeats. There's no point in complaining when someone's acting like they're actually worried about you. It makes them too somber. "No one's ever died from allergies."

"What? Yes they have, Klaus," Ben says. "Obviously they have."

"Well, not this kind," Klaus says. He ducks his head and sneezes against the inside of his wrist. "Unless you can die of _annoyance,_ Jesus Christ."

Ben hums and says, "Bless you."

"Thank you." Klaus feels his own shoulders quiver when he sniffles, the brisk inhale unsuccessfully dragging along the inside of his face like furniture being pulled across a wood floor. "Ugh. Let's just go and check out the next one."

"Klaus?"

Klaus is used to hearing his name from out of nowhere-- in fact, he has yet to go a sober day in his life without it. Somehow, spirits are always finding out who he is and what he does, almost like he's a magnet for their activity, even if they're meant to be elsewhere. They very rarely waste time in calling for him to ask him for a favor he can't provide.

He's also used to not responding to them, because verbal acknowledgement and eye contact of any degree have always made things worse. However, even though his plugged up ears and irritated distractibility, Klaus is able to recognize the source of this one.

"Present," he says. He knows he doesn't need to raise his voice for somebody to hear him.

Vanya comes into view a second later, hands in her pockets as she adapts her usual wide-stanced slouch. The last time Klaus saw her was shortly after their arrival a few hours ago, and she's since tied her hair back into a low ponytail and pulled it through the gap in the back of her hat.

"Hey," she says. Her confusion echoes Luther's from earlier.

"Love the new look, sis," Klaus says. "It suits you."

Vanya's gaze shifts downward as she smiles bashfully. "Thanks," she says. "Did you and Allison finish already?"

"Nah, I just wanted to see what you guys were up to," Klaus says. "Find anything cool?"

Vanya grins. "Diego's trying to decipher some graffiti on the wall outside of the kitchen."

Klaus accompanies her to the back.

Diego looks amazing when the temperature rises into the eighties. His thick black wool and leather are unventilated and would give him literal heatstroke if he tried to wear them out in weather like this, but he's stubborn and devoted enough to wear a black shirt that he must have cut the sleeves off of himself. It fits him so strangely, clearly not meant to be a tank top at all, which goes well with the streetwear-slash-swimming-trunks he's wearing on his bottom half. Klaus has yet to exactly figure it out. He loves it.

They find him standing next to a combined scribbling of carvings and ink, but instead of scrutinizing it like Klaus had expected him to be, Diego is looking in their direction before Klaus and Vanya even finish walking through the door. His expression is relaxed and expectant as Vanya passes him, but it changes when he locks eyes with Klaus.

"What happened to you?" Diego's voice is low and flat like it always is when he asks Klaus whether or not he's okay. He's so obvious.

Klaus decides to play with him. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"Your eyes are really puffy," Vanya says.

"Just something in the air." Klaus steps closer to the wall. "What is this?"

"I'm trying to figure out how much of it was here before Dad shut the place down," Diego murmurs, back on task. "Can you tell what this says?"

Klaus sniffles and leans in, then reaches out to touch the shallow lines carved into one of the planks. 

"I dunno," he says. "Claw marks?"

"No. It's someone's initials. H…?" Diego guesses.

"It looks like a tally," Vanya says. "Like someone might have been counting something."

Ben says, "What about the ones above it? It looks like they might have been trying to cross something out."

Klaus looks up.

"Here?" he asks, pointing to the mass of scratches at his eye level. Ben nods, and Diego brings his head closer. Klaus steps back so his brother can get a better look.

With his right hand acting as a shield, Klaus sneezes one, two, three times. And then a fourth time. Maybe from all the sawdust.

"Bless you," Vanya murmurs from where she stands on her toes, shadowing Diego to peek at the marks in the wood. Diego had already said the same between the third and the fourth, while Klaus was shaking his head for clarity.

From the black hole of his enormous parachute pocket, Diego pulls out something flimsy and colorful that he extends behind him toward Klaus.

"Here," he says.

Klaus takes it, eyebrows furrowing closer together as he asks, "Where did you even get this?"

"Found it."

And why did you keep it, Klaus wants to ask, but even he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. With an equal mix of hope and gratitude in his heart, Klaus brings the children's birthday party napkin -- _seriously_ \-- up to his face and blows his nose for a good handful of seconds. It feels better than anything else has all day.

"Thanks," he says.

"Uh-huh." Diego traces along the lines with his thumb, focused and inquisitive. "Wonder why they chose this wall to write all over."

"Maybe it wasn't the kids," Klaus suggests, pinching his nose with the napkin one last time before he crumples it up to hold underneath his septum just in case. "Could've been the lunch ladies letting off steam. Some of this definitely looks like lunch lady speak, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh. Do you see anyone hanging around?" Diego asks.

Klaus huffs and says, "No. Nobody here. Must not have been a hot spot back in the day."

"It might not mean anything important," Vanya suggests after a moment. "Sometimes people just get bored."

"Might be nice to know who's been visiting one of Dad's abandoned properties and why," Diego says. "They might be looking for something."

"You're so paranoid." Klaus rolls his eyes. " _We're_ looking for something. But so far no one's found anything aside from a bunch of boring dead ends."

"And we still have a lot of ground to cover," Diego adds, dark and determined. "The drive up here was exhausting; I wonder if we'd be better off spending the night."

Klaus looks at Ben, ready to disagree, but he holds off on responding. Luther just might get his wish after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i dont hc klaus with mad hayfever or anything but sometimes people with mild sensitivities end up having allergy episodes while theyre unpacking boxes and i think thats beautiful. also the diverse pollen collections of the forests up here are a force to be reckoned with


End file.
